Lord Andrew Masterson, Earl of Windenshire has had a string of bad luck with women. While his best friends are all getting leg-shackled, he can’t seem to get a lady to stay in his presence long enough to court them. Not sure what he might be doing wrong, he turns to Madame Evangeline, hoping she can help him change his luck.

Betrothed since before her birth to Lord Masterson, Miss Miranda Beauchamp has prepared to be his countess ever since. Although the Earl of Windenshire maintains her upkeep and pays for everything she needs, she might as well not exist for all the attention he pays her. Determined to break the marriage contract, she’ll go to desperate measures to achieve her goal, even if it means losing her virginity to do so.

Can Madame Eve show Andrew and Miranda there is more than a contract between them? Or will family secrets and years of hurt be too much for the earl and his virgin countess to overcome?

“Yes, please. Perhaps it’s unladylike to admit, but I am starving.”

He smiled, taking her plate. “It’s actually quite refreshing. I grow tired of petite young things who eat nothing and pass out at a drop of the hat.”

“I am neither young nor petite.”

No, she had curves in all the right places. Making sure it wasn’t ignored, his cock twitched as it hardened. “You seem perfect to me.”

“Ha! Far from perfect.” Again her lips formed the tantalizing O before she asked, “Did you put something in my tea?”

“I did not.”

“Then I have no excuse for my behavior.”

He laughed that time, filling her plate with a bit of everything. “You have done nothing in need of excusing.”

“But I would have thought you’d prefer a perfect woman.” Her eyes clouded with what appeared to be confusion. He supposed it wasn’t too hard to believe; a peer of the realm would be looking for what society considered would be important in a mate. He handed her the plate laden with delicacies and far more food than he had ever seen any woman eat.

“Thank you, milord—Andrew.”

“You’re welcome. Now, indulge me.” he said, retaking his seat in the high back chair. “What do you think is perfection?”

“I believe....” Taking a bite, she contemplated the question. “Perfection for you would be a woman who is well-mannered and carries herself with decorum at all times. She is the perfect hostess. She does delicate needlework, plays the pianoforte, and sings beautifully. She would complement you, if on your arm, and would never argue.”

What she described sounded like a paper doll. A woman with no thoughts of her own. He didn’t want a vacant vessel in his bed only for the purpose of begetting children; he wanted a partner. Andrew yearned to have a woman look at him the way Llysa and Chandra looked at their men. Both women stood up to their lordly men, all the while complementing and supporting Wolfe and Simon. “Sounds bloody boring, if you ask me.”

“Really.”

“Might as well be with a living statue. I’ll bet this woman would also stare at the ceiling and think about England while I drive into her.”

She choked on her bite. “I suppose she just might.”

“And she probably eats enough to stay barely alive, ties her corset too tight, and then faints at the slightest hint of impropriety.”

“Oh dear, yes, into the most dainty faints possible.”

“I would rather face the guillotine than endure a woman of that sort.” Setting his food aside, he turned his attention fully on her. Her face lit up as they continued to banter back and forth, showing none of the disgust she’d found for him earlier. Standing, he grabbed her plate while ignoring her protest. “Would you condemn me to such a cavernous, empty life, Miranda?”

“Condemn?”

“Utter and complete boredom.” He sat on the edge of the seat next to her. “Somehow I have a feeling you could never bore me.”

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

"The Earl and his Virgin Countess by Dominique Eastwick was a quick read that I enjoyed very much. There is just enough steam and humor to make this short story a hit. I found myself laughing loudly at Miranda as her fiery temper got the better of her. It was also very amusing when her curiosity would get the better of her. Poor Andrew had no idea what hit him. What I liked most about this story is that Andrew (an earl) was not a complete ass as most others are portrayed. This was very refreshing.

I give this book 5 stars. It was more than I was expecting and I look forward to reading more from this author. I find myself smiling every time I think about this book."

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Can a
family be cursed to never enjoy happily-ever-after love affairs? Cerise DeLand
tells all in THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE, box set, 99 cents!

Cerise DeLand brings you the story of the Stanhope family
whose members for centuries have not enjoyed any happily-ever-after love
affairs!

Here’s a nibble of new cherry:

Copyright, 2014 Cerise DeLand.
All rights reserved.

London, January 1809

It
is a truth, universally accepted, that a politician in want of the premiership
must also be in want of a wife.

Felice
knew that was her new husband’s justification for marrying her so quickly.

“A
reason as good as my own,” she told herself as she combed her hair back from her
face and fluffed the ruffled bodice of her wedding dress. She pursed her lips,
wondering how Adam really kissed a woman. How he kissed his mistresses. After
the ceremony minutes ago, he had merely brushed her mouth with his. She’d
always thought her lips worth more than a peck—and she was determined that this
second husband of hers would do more than ignore her.

“I’ll
ensure that he does,” she resolved, with a check of her figure in the cheval
mirror in the retiring room of her new brother–in–law’s mansion on Grosvenor
Square. “After all, the fictitious Miss Proper has charms that Adam does not
know about.”Nor should he!

That
secret could ruin her marriage. “And I intend to keep both the secret and my
marriage!”

So
go to your wedding breakfast and be done
with this mooning. She had
accepted his proposal. Now she would reap the rewards. London Society was open
to her—the excitement of their lives, their intrigues ready fodder for her pen.
For her romances and poems.

She
frowned at herself.

Be
honest, Fee. You want more than inspiration for your stories. More than a means
to repay that nefarious man your first husband’s debt. You want Adam Stanhope
gracing your own bed, not just his look-alike walking on the pages of your
newest romance. You want him inside your body. Making you wet and warm. And
kissing your—

A
quick knock at the door had her whirling.

“Dear
Felice,” cooed her husband’s Great Aunt Amaryllis from behind the portal. “Do
come out now. We are quite eager to applaud you and Adam. The guests, too, are
clamouring for the receiving line!”

Fee scoffed. Most likely, the men wanted more wine
while they made wagers on how soon Adam would bed her. And the women? They wanted
to assess how a country mouse like her managed to snare the renowned, rich and
eloquent Adam Stanhope. Third son of the earl. Widower. Father. Someday soon,
the head of his party, if the papers and broadsheets were to be believed. And
thereafter certainly, prime minister.

“Adam
Stanhope,” she murmured to herself. “A great catch, Fee. If you can intrigue
him.”

And
there was the rub.

Adam,
now thirty, was notorious for outlandish behavior. When he’d turned seventeen,
he’d run away from home and sailed to Hong Kong to work with his cousin in his
Far Eastern trading company. Four years later, he’d come home to finish his
education at Cambridge, marry the beauty of the Season and run for Parliament.
He’d won twice now. But since his wife had died in childbirth, Adam had made a
name for himself as a rake. He was just like his brothers in that regard.
Still, he was the only one who had married and challenged the Stanhope family curse.
For it was a legend that no matter whom a Stanhope married, no matter that
person’s quality of character or breeding or good intentions, once wedded, a
Stanhope lived in hell.

“I
will be happy.” Felice repeated the phrase that had become her motto
ever since Adam had appeared in Kent last month and proposed. “I’ll dispense
with this hideous man plaguing me for money to cover those old debts. Then I
will devote myself to ensuring Adam is happy. I will be a social asset to him.
And a good mother to his son.”

What
more could a man ask for?

****

“A politician has to have a wife! Who the
devil put that ridiculous rule about, Reggie?” Adam Stanhope asked his friend
as he paced in his brother Jack’s drawing room at eleven in the morning. He
threw back another shot of Jack’s fine brandy and coughed. “Oh, lord, that
burns all the way down. Whose idea was it to stay out all night, eh?” He
scrubbed his hand over his face, acknowledging his predicament had less to do
with excess alcohol than with Fee Wentworth. Correction, Stanhope. “Dammit,
you’d think a respectable widower with an heir earned the right to be free!”

“No
help for it, old man,” Reggie responded and drained his glass of spirits. “Damn
good stuff, if I say so myself! But see here, Adam, you admitted you need her.
We’ve been through this entire argument before. You’ve got a bit of a reputation,
courtesy of that Miss Proper’s ramblings and—”

The
far door burst open. Adam’s oldest brother, Jack, appeared in all his dark
imperious hauteur. He took one look at both men and slipped inside to shut the
world out. “Now, Adam. Reggie. What the hell are you doing in here drinking?”

Adam
cocked a long black brow at the man who expected to be obeyed in all things.
“Drowning my sorrows.”

“Too
late for that!” Jack’s mouth twitched in a grin. “Get the hell out there so we
can toast the good health of the bride and groom.”

“Come,
come, Jack,” he grumped, “you know what this marriage means for me.”

Jack’s
black brows arched high. “Oh, I do. One look at your bride and I have a very
good idea that—”

Adam
scowled at his brother. “She’s lovely.” Damned gorgeous, in fact. And mine,
god help me now. “But I have ruined her.”

Jack
startled. “You’ve had her? Already?”

“No,
no. That’s not what I mean.”

Jack,
his grimace deepening, strode over to remove the snifter glass from Adam’s
fingertips. “Sadly, I know what you mean. And this does not help.”

“I’ve
known her since she was ten, Jack!” Adam thrust out a hand, roiled by what he
had just done to this sweet, shy woman.

“And?
She was a charming child then. Now you have—”

“Wrecked
her life!That’s what I’ve done!”

Jack
narrowed his eyes on his brother. “How late did you stay at White’s last
night?”

When
Adam said “Ba!” and shook his head, Jack peered at Reggie. “How late?”

The
man winced and brushed imaginary crumbs from his cravat. “Five. Six. Not
certain. We were winning at dice, you see, and couldn’t leave.”

Jack
glared at the ceiling.“I hope to god it
was profitable.”

Adam
grinned through his pain. “Five thousand in my pockets I hadn’t had before!”

The
far door opened again. An auburn–haired man stuck his head in. “What the hell
is the delay here?”

Jack
beckoned him. “Wes, Adam is having a rather belated moment of introspection. Do
come in and help me talk sense into our youngest brother.”

Wes
took a step inside and shut the door behind him. In his cavalryman’s dress
blues, he leaned back against the door. “What’s the matter, Adam? Nerves?”

“That,”
Wes chuckled as he limped over to the chair beside Adam and fell into it, “is
before a man goes into battle!”

“Well,
I am!”

Wes
gave him the quelling glance his men termed The
Demand. “You are married.”

“I
know I thought it a good idea. Despite the horror of my marriage to Sarah.” The
mere mention of his first wife sent a wave of revulsion through him. “Everyone
thought it a good idea. My colleagues. The Prime Minister. But you both, most
of all, know this won’t work.”

Wes
pursed his lips. “I’ve seen your new lady wife, and I say give it a go. If you
admit defeat before you start, you’re doomed.”

“This
is not a cavalry charge,” Adam murmured.

Wes
shrugged. “Perhaps it should be.”

“Wes,
have a little pity,” Adam pleaded, his head splitting from too much whiskey and
too little sleep.

“No
pity for you,” Wes shot back. “Felice lives up to her name in temperament as
far as I can tell. And her figure, Adam, has certainly become more alluring
than when I last saw her in Great Aunt Amaryllis’ garden.”

“She
was ten!”

“Was
she, now? Hmm. No wonder she was flat-chested.”

“Now
see here,” Adam admonished his older brother. “Her figure is—”

“Superb
and yours to explore.” Wes wiggled his brows suggestively, then looked at
Jack.“We met her when we first summered
at Aunt’s house. What year was it Father foisted us off on the poor old gel?”

Adam
groaned. “It doesn’t matter!” I liked her then. Enjoyed her wit and
intelligence every time we met. Now I’ve gone and hurt her irrevocably.

Jack
shook his head. “Don’t argue with him, Wes. He’s got a snoot full from an
all-night gambling rout at White’s. It only encourages him to debate you. And
neither of us can ever outtalk him.” He gave his brother, the Colonel and Man
of Action, a wide-eyed look of despair. “The curse is upon him.”

“Oh,
hell,” Wes mourned. “Not that again.”

Adam
frowned at both of his brothers. “That again? I don’t seem to recall
that either of you is yet married. Why not?”

“Not
our time,” Jack told him.

“No
woman I like enough,” Wes added. “You, Jack?”

“None
I cannot live without,” Jack said with pointed disdain for the subject. “Come
on, Adam, let’s do our drinking out there with all the others.”

“They
all wonder, you know,” Adam offered, his gaze on the door.

“What?”
Reggie asked when the two Stanhope brothers didn’t respond to him.

All
three Stanhopes considered Reggie Mortenson with bleak expressions.

Adam
answered for them all. “They wonder when Felice will leave me. As we speak,
they are out there taking wagers on the number of months she remains.”

“The
Stanhope women don’t all leave,” Jack reminded Adam.

The
three brothers winced and looked at anything but each other. Adam knew each man
thought of his own mother and how each had died in succession. And even though
Jack’s mother passed away after a riding accident, Wes’s died of consumption
and Adam’s of childbed fever, the ton declared each woman had suffered first
and foremost from a broken heart.

“He
says he loved each one,” Jack reminded them of the phrase their father repeated
to them often.

Adam
shut his eyes. “He declares he loved Clarice’s mother, too!” Their charming
half-sister Clarice had been Stanhope’s by-blow, conveniently born between Jack
and Wes.

“Aye,”
Wes acknowledged with a smirk. “In his prime, the man was a walking satyr.”

Jack
inclined his head toward Wes. “Astonishing, isn’t it, that he managed his
estates as well as he did, hopping from bed to bed like a right royal
degenerate.” He flourished a hand. “Yet, he cared for each woman he bedded.”

Adam
growled. “How can you believe him?” He had never known their father to be
honest with anyone, least of all his three legitimate sons. “You were four
years old,” Adam reminded Jack, then faced Wes. “And you were two when I was
born and my mother took a childbed fever. How can you know that he tells the
truth?”

Jack
rolled a shoulder. “Perhaps on this one issue…”

Adam shook his head, hands fisted on his
hips. “I long to see the day each of you faces a woman whom you do not wish to
kill with the family curse.” He straightened his cravat and ran two hands
through his hair. “For god’s sake. Open the damn door, Wesley, I’m ready to
claim my bride and ruin both our lives.”

*
* * * *

4
Brothers, 4 Love Affairs, 4 Marriages

That
Challenge the Family Curse

Jack, Adam, Wes and Mark Stanhope fear falling in love. No wonder. No
Stanhope has enjoyed a happy marriage in centuries. What does it take to change
the family curse? Courage? Devotion? Love?

LORD STANHOPE’S IMPROPER PROPOSAL

Adam Stanhope is a politician who needs a wife. When he marries for
convenience, he overlooks the fact that he cares for his lovely childhood
friend more than he should.

LADY FEATHERSTONE’S FERVENT AFFAIR

Wes Stanhope is a national hero, but he’s wounded physically and
emotionally. When the woman he loves wants to help him, he learns that the
woman he adores can be just as courageous in the bedroom as he was on the
battlefield.

MISS DARLING’S INDECENT OFFER

Jack Stanhope leads a carefree existence but when he meets Emma Darling,
he realizes that in saving this woman from dastardly men is his saving grace.

THE BASTARD’S PASSIONATE PRIZE

Illegitimate Mark Stanhope expects nothing from his family, but when
they save him, he in turn saves a young noblewoman who has the valor to stand
against others who would abuse her.

Enjoy
her Regency Romp series, LADY VARNEY’S
RISQUE BUSINESS, RENDEZVOUS WITH A
DUKE and in January, third in this series, MASQUERADE WITH A MARQUESS debuts! Here is a sneak peek at the
gorgeous new cover!

Meanwhile,
RENDEZVOUS has been on numerous
bestseller lists for more than 6 weeks…and STANHOPE
sits there now, too!

AUTHOR
BIO:

Cerise DeLand
loves to cook, hates to dust, lives to travel, read—and write sexy
romances.A Top 20 Bestselling author on
many sites, Cerise is known for writing eloquent, rapturous stories.

Come to her
blog and find FAB.U.LOUS pix of her recent trip to France, including pictures
of Malmaison, Fountainebleau, Chantilly and more more more! She also gives you
her version of French recipes she adores! http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com

Friday, November 14, 2014

Lord Andrew Masterson, Earl of Windenshire has had a string of bad luck with women. While his best friends are all getting leg-shackled, he can’t seem to get a lady to stay in his presence long enough to court them. Not sure what he might be doing wrong, he turns to Madame Evangeline, hoping she can help him change his luck.

Betrothed since before her birth to Lord Masterson, Miss Miranda Beauchamp has been preparing to be his countess ever since. Although the Earl of Windenshire maintains her upkeep and pays for everything she needs, she might as well not exist for all the attention he pays her. Determined to break the marriage contract, she’ll go to desperate measures to achieve her goal, even if it means losing her virginity to do so.

Can Madame Eve show Andrew and Miranda there is more than a contract between them? Or will family secrets and years of hurt be too much for the earl and his virgin countess to overcome?